


I’m Still Here

by RougueShadowWolf



Series: 15 Minutes [198]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Aftermath of Violence, Danny Mahealani & Stiles Stilinski Friendship, Dead Danny Mahealani, Hurt Stiles, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, M/M, Mention of Danny Mahealani - Freeform, Sad Stiles Stilinski, Stiles Stilinski Sings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-15
Updated: 2019-09-15
Packaged: 2020-10-19 07:28:08
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,956
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20653436
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RougueShadowWolf/pseuds/RougueShadowWolf
Summary: Sometimes, when every bone in your body aches and your heart is heavy, all you can do is just sing.





	I’m Still Here

**Author's Note:**

> Hello there, and welcome to my realm of madness. 
> 
> I will be honest with you guys, this round of 15Minutes came about at the start of August, but due to horrible internet I couldn’t upload them that day, and so the plan was I’d do it later…. which I forgot to do due to my brain being mush due to long term infliction of insomnia (which by the way broke only a day ago, so hurray, I’ve slept for more than 3hours a night!). Now if my dearest ItAlmostWorked!, hadn’t gone searching for a couple of stories from the early August round, well, then you guys would never have to suffer another round of 15Minutes. 
> 
> So, I’m going to try and upload these stories now, might not get them all up at the same-time since, well, I’ve got monsters to take care of. But I will be posting them, all of them, every chance I get which makes me feel like I need to apologize to my readers because this stuff was written by a sleep-deprived, completely confidence lacking, language mixing insomniac. 
> 
> Now to everyone familiar with 15Minutes, skip to the next area that is marked with the declaration of SLIGHT CHNAGES, to those who aren’t familiar please keep reading so you know the disaster you’ve stepped into. So, these stories are my tiny payment to a group of six, each person gives me guidelines to follow (often badly given prompts that result in disaster) and each fic is written within the times span of 15Minutes. Once the 15Minutes is over, I am no longer allowed to write another line, this dooms you to read hastily written story with typos and bad grammar that would reach the moon and back. 15Minutes is a panicked mess, my lovelies, and if you can’t handle bad grammar, typos and poorly thought out stories, leave now and be at peace. But if you have the courage and a kind heart you are welcome to risk your sanity. Now continue to SLIGHT CHANGE if you will, but it’s not that important. 
> 
> SLIGHT CHANGE in the usual set-up my lovelies, no, I haven’t managed to increase the time but we have had negotiations on it, and perhaps one day when the round isn’t ass massive as this one, perhaps then we might leap into 20minutes. Now the change here is the curious decision of my friends picking an overall theme for each round, for example, ThankTheTreesAndTheBees here picked from her summer-hat the theme Broken, and so in every fic this round until the next has this theme. She’s is also allowed to guide me down a path with some wishes, such as the ones she gave me on this fic, and after that I’m to write a fic. Any questions? Feel free to ask. 
> 
> Now, shall we start? 
> 
> So, ThankTheTreesAndTheBees (yes, that's the name I picked for her) picked Broken as a theme this round, not that she’s thrilled about it since it wasn’t her piece of paper, she wished for a fic where Stiles feels miserable, his been in a fight or someone has just kicked his ass pretty badly, and he’s just miserable and decides to sing I’m Still Here by (and now we’re happily butchering a name here) John Rzeznik, and that’s all she gave me and I was allowed to listen to the song once before I started writing and read through the lyrics once (I’d probably should’ve written them down, why didn’t I think about that!?). Anyways, so that was all she gave me and this happened. 
> 
> Oh, and because I suck at tags, do tell me if there are any I should use, I’d appreciate the help. 
> 
> Now, I wish you well and hope you’ll enjoy this fic.

Walking, or rather limping out onto the brightly lit stage, bruised and battered body aching, Stiles felt admittedly not up to the task of performing tonight, but then as he licked his lips nervously the sting of his busted-up lip reminded him why exactly dragged his sorry ass to the high school. Murmurs begin as the audience catch sight of his bruised face, and the sudden attention makes him feel even more nervous than before, and Stiles has genuine concerns about him puking his guts out in-front of everyone. There was no doubt that him vomiting all over the stage would be talked about town more than the charity event the following day, it wouldn't matter that the charity event revolved around the NICU at Beacon Hills Memorial Hospital since everyone just seemed to love to talk shit about the Sheriff's son.

It had been the threat to the NICU that had made him sign-up as one of the performers at the charity/talent show, but it wasn't just cause that had made him drag his sorry as to Beacon Hills High School. He was there because of a new sense of urgency in him to do something, to do something more than what little he had already done to hopefully help bring Danny and Danny's boyfriend some justice.

Breathing in a shaky breath, putting a little bit more weight on his injured leg, hoping that the pain would help steady him a little, Stiles takes his place behind the microphone. The bright lights are increasing the agony of his already aching head.

` So, ´ Stiles starts, voice rough, his bruised chest and ribs not at all thrilled with him speaking, and it’s obvious that the pain meds were starting to wear off which sucked almost as much as everything else did, `I know the plan was that I was going to do some stand-up comedy, which by the way was rather tame due to the heavy handed censoring of the faculty of Beacon Hills High School, ´ and that was an understatement, ` but I’m not exactly feeling funny at the moment, so…´

A few more murmurs dance through the audience, and Stiles hears his English teacher hiss something from behind the curtain, but thankfully she doesn’t have the guts to remove him.

`My heart just isn’t in for laughs tonight, ´ and wasn't that just the truth, Stiles feared he wouldn't feel like laughing for a very long time.

`So, I thought I’d do something else. ´ Stiles tells his audience, startling a little when the loudness of the double-doors at the back of the vast space used primarily by the basketball team and for silly school dances open and close, he finds the noise surprisingly loud in the otherwise ghostly silent space. He pauses for a moment, trying to make out whether or not someone had walked in or out of the crowded space, but the light shining from high makes it impossible for him see anything but the faint outlines of the four judges situated near the stage.

Clearing his throat, Stiles continues to speak, feeling his nerves slowly threatening to send him running off of the stage.

`Anyway. As you can probably tell by the guitar, I’m planning to sing a little song. But, don’t worry, it’s not a naughty song. ´

Someone calls out his name then, possibly the figure that he can hear moving behind the blinding light, but Stiles ignores it since he’s not entirely sure the voice isn’t just a ghostly echo inside his head, and instead plays a few cords, the strings feel strange after years of him not touching the guitar in years, the dust stuck to the instrument brought into motion and it makes his nose itch. Stiles thinks briefly he should’ve taken the time to dust the guitar off before walking out on the stage, but it was too late now. 

`It’s just a song from a movie I loved as a little kid, and which I still love. ´ Stiles tells his audience, all the while his fingers grace one cord after another, searching and seeking, ` and there was this song, one that has stuck with me since I was a little kid, a kid who felt oh so out of place in this town of ours, and in this world too. ´ Stiles glances down at the old guitar he’d hid from his when his father in a drunken haze decided to get rid of as many things as possible that reminded him of his late-wife.

`Frankly, I still feel like that kid. ´ Stiles confesses, and he frowns at the microphone, then with a bitter chuckle Stiles continues, `I guess somethings never change. ´

Stiles swallows down the lump that forms in his throat, feeling all eyes on him and the attention makes him feel like some labrat. 

`Now, not only do I love this song, but I found out that a friend of mine loved this song too, ´ Stiles goes on to say, struggling to speak clearly with a gigantic lump of grief and anger stuck in his throat, ` and so, I thought heck I’ll sing it tonight and hopefully he’ll hear it where ever he might be. ´ although Stiles had honestly stopped believing in the idea of heaven, there was now a part of him that did wish there was such a place, Danny sure as hell deserved to finally end-up in a better place and so it would be nice if there was a heaven free of homophobic bastards; hell, Stiles wished if there was a heaven that people with hearts full of hate weren't allowed in, since Danny deserved better than to have to deal with assholes with nasty hearts and ill-will. 

Settling in front of the microphone, Stiles closes eyes before hoping as hard as he can that he still remembers how to play his chosen song well-enough.

`So here goes. ´

Working the string his mother had once played with skill and love, Stiles hopes he hasn’t forgotten how to play what he’d always felt was his song. He'd never learned to play the instrument with the same skill and grace that his mother could, maybe it was because she'd fallen ill and died before he'd been able to learn all her tricks and skills, or rather before she could pass her knowledge on to him. 

The murmurs are drowned out by the music he starts to play, and as he begins to sing which isn’t an easy thing to do with a body battered and bruised, but he manages it. 

`**_I am a question to the world_**, ´ he begins softly, his nervousness causing his voice to tremble which only makes him feel a little bit more pissed-off with everything, `**_not an answer to be heard_**_._ ´

_`**Or a moment that’s held in your arms,**_ ´ Stiles is pretty sure his voice isn’t anywhere near as powerful as that of John Rzeznik’s, a voice he could hear in his head as he sang his more breathless version of the song that had captured his attention as a small child, a child who always got in trouble for who he was. A child who honestly just wanted to make his parent proud of him but who still continued to fail at it more often than not.

`**_And what do you think you’d ever say_**, ´ his voice grows a little bit as the bitter anger in his heart blooms with a feeling of desperation and sorrow most deep, his voice cracking a little as he continues to sing, `**_I won’t listen anyway_**_. ´_

`**_You don’t know me,_** ´ he’s surprised slightly over how the words still ring true, and how they claw at his heart as if this was the very first-time he'd heard these words, `**_And I’ll never be what you want me to be._**_ ´ _

`**And what do you think you’d understand**, ´ Stiles sings, eyes still closed as he focuses on trying to keep on singing, focusing on the words of the song while fighting to sing through the pain and the slight bout of nausea he feels.

`**I’m a boy. _No_, I’m a man.** ´ he sings placing so much more emotion into the words as he possibly can as he fights to ignore the memories of every disappointed look that he’d made appear on the face of his father, the most resent one being but a few hours ago when he’d finally dared to come out to his dad.

_`**You can’t take me and throw me away**_**,** ´ sure his dad could throw him away, kick him out of the house, he knew this well-enough but for the first-time that idea didn’t terrify him as much as it probably should. It was sort of funny how getting your ass-kicked just because you decided to do the right thing, the right thing being defend two guys getting jumped on by homophobic assholes, it seemed to change you.

`**_And how can you learn what’s never shown, _´** Stiles sings voice rising as he does, growing more confident with his own voice and more determined to no longer hide the person he was.

_I'm done hiding who I am_, Stiles thinks as he sings with determination, `**_Yeah, you stand here on your own._ ´ **

`**_They don’t know me._** ´ He’s slightly startled when he hears the strings of a violin begin to play behind him, and he turns just enough to look behind him, and he’s surprised to find the Greenberg there giving him a tiny nod, and as Stiles turns back towards the mic the deep thrum of a base begins to play from the corner of the stage, and soon the slightly more sharper and clearer strings of an electric guitar begins to play and its joined by two more, each instrument settling behind him but without drowning out him and his little guitar out. 

`**_And I want a moment to be real._ ´ **Stiles continues, knowing deep down he’s probably screwed-up the lyrics somewhere by now, but he doesn’t care much about that as he fights to stay upright and singing just a little while longer, briefly remembering the few times he and Danny had started singing this very song together, laughing like idiots as they messed-up the words.

**`_Wanna touch things I don’t feel._ ´ **he can’t hide the desperation he feels here, the feeling grows and grows until it bloody hurts, `**_Wanna hold on and feel I belong,_ ´ **and he just wants to feel like he belongs in this town, in this world, and most of all he just wants to feel like he belongs with the people he’s called his family and friends.

`**_And how can the world want me to change._** ´ Stiles honestly asks the people in the room, feeling the anger and confusion he’d felt as a child, feeling an incredible level of despair since he’s seen too much of the hate and fear that festered in the hearts and minds of ignorant people.

_`**They’re the ones that stay the same.** ´ _and wasn’t that the truth.

_`**They don’t know me.** ´_ Stiles continues, feeling more and more breathless by the minute, and he takes a little minute to catch his breath, his fingers pausing as he catches his breath, but as soon as he begins to sing once more his fingers get back to playing the strings of Claudia Stilinski’s guitar. 

` **_Now you know me, ´_** he’s a little surprised by the realization that he shouted those words at his father but a few hours ago, the memory of the look that had appeared on the face of Beacon Hills very own sheriff before the man walked out of Stiles’ hospital room, that was yet another memory Stiles would never forget.

**` _And I’m not afraid._** ´ Stiles sings defiantly, thinking once more that he hears his dad calling out his name, and as he turns his attention towards the voice calling his name, Stiles finds his dad near the stage, a look of genuine concern plastered on his rapidly aging face.

`**And I want to tell you who I am**, ´ Stiles sings, voice not too different from that of someone begging to be heard and seen, but he doubts his father will actually listen to him without jumping into further conclusions or just call him a liar or confused.

Turning his attention away from the Sheriff, Stiles goes on to sing as best he can while feeling like some invisible hand was squeezing his lunges to the point they would never function again, causing his voice to break, **`_Can you help me be a man_**_. ´_

_`**They can’t break me, as long as I know who I am.** ´_ Stiles sings, and he’s surprised to hear a couple of unfamiliar voices join in with him, but fearing turning around would make him lose his balance Stiles stays put and closes his eyes once more. The dizziness he’s been feeling, as well as the nausea had continued to grow, making it harder to keep going.

` **_And I want a moment to be real._** ´ Stiles sings with the passion he hadn’t expected himself capable of expressing, especially not tonight when he felt so broken and exhausted.

` **_Wanna touch things I don’t feel._** ´ Stiles plays his guitar with a familiarity hadn’t been really expecting to find after so many years of not touching this guitar, all those years of not playing this particular song should’ve made it impossible for him to play this song without making some major mistakes.

` **_Wanna hold on and feel I belong_**_._ ´ his mouth feels dry, and his voice cracks once more but he continues pushing on, his stubbornness and the pain of grief making it hard to stop now. He felt very much like the stubborn child who wanted to learn how to play the guitar so badly just to make his mother proud, he pushes on like the teenager who would continue to try and try again to do his homework while the world was so full of distractions just so that maybe his dad would tell him he’d done good, he continues with the stubbornness of someone afraid of disappointing those around him.

**`_And how can the world want me to change, they’re the ones that stay the same._** ´ he sings with his whole damn and broken heart, opening his eyes briefly as another voice calls out to him from the entrance but Stiles isn’t done singing, not yet.

`**_They can’t see me. But I’m still here._** ´ Stiles almost laughs bitterly here, but he shoves that laughter back down from where it came from.

_`**They can’t tell me who to be**. ´_ and Goddamn how much of his will and stubbornness rings in his voice then, _`**I’m**_** _not the what they see,_ **´ and wasn’t that the truth, he’d hid his true self for so long, and tried so hard to be something and someone he wasn’t even while failing to become what others expected and wanted him to be.

`**_Yeah, the world is still sleeping, while I keep on dreaming for me_. ´ **there’s no hiding now how angry he is, and Stiles lets it be known by his voice alone, a voice that grows more louder and more desperate, more pained while the unwanted tears begin to sneak forth, tears he would probably deny or claim were born from the physical pain of his injuries and the fucking broken heart that felt like it had never been whole to start with.

**`_And their words are just whispers, _´ **Stiles continues to sings, ignoring the voice still calling out to him, his whole body bound tightly by the rage he feels.

** ` _And lies,_ _that I’ll never believe. ´_ **Stiles declares for the first-time without feeling like he really would never again believe that there was something wrong with him, wrong with the way he loved and who he loved, singing those words almost like a challenge for any one to try and tell him how to be and who to love.

**`_And I want a moment to be real,_ ´ **Stiles sings earnestly, opening his eyes only to find the stupidly handsome face of Derek Hale standing there near the stage, and for some strange reason seeing the guy who would never love him the way Danny had loved his boyfriend; and even if Derek had the ability to love him, Stiles couldn’t help but feel that Derek would most likely prefer to keep their relationship neatly tucked away inside the deepest and darkest closet, and this realization hurt him more than the beating he’d suffered.

**`_Wanna touch things I don’t feel. _´ **Stiles nearly startles out of his skin as Jackson Whittemore appears at his side singing no less, reaching out to try and steady Stiles who hadn’t even realized he’d started to sway rather worrisomely where he stood.

Stiles takes this moment to just catch his breath while Jackson with his red-eyes continue to sing, `**_Wanna hold on and feel I belong. ´ _**

But catching his breath is harder than he’d expected, and by the time he feels steady enough last lines of the song has arrived, and Stiles feels a little bit like a failure but refuses to give this feeling wings as he sings the last few lines. He things back to times when he and Danny sang together, neither one speaking about exactly how this song had touched them as children and as teenagers. 

`**_I’m still here._**_ **I’m Still here. I’m still here.**_ ´ Stiles almost spits out in defiance, challenging almost everyone who’d ever made him feel like something less to come at him and see if he would take it.

As soon as he’s played the last few strings, Stiles leans into Jackson, and before darkness washes over him Stiles manages to slur out the words, `Jackson,I don’t feel so good. ´

**Author's Note:**

> Oh, I feel I should explain, a bit more about this fic. So, Stiles and Danny have grown close, like they aren’t best friends or anything but they are friends, which is why Jackson is sort of nicer towards Stiles since Danny isn’t okay with Jackson picking on his friend; still, Jackson wouldn’t consider Stiles his friend, they tolerate each other because of Danny. 
> 
> Now one night, Stiles and Danny with Danny’s boyfriend go out together, just have fun and maybe find Stiles a nice guy, but that night goes horrible wrong due to homophobic assholes.


End file.
